


PDX

by Raconteur86



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: British Actor Fanfic, Cute, F/M, Fangirls, Fluff, Kissing, One Shot, Self-Insert, Silly Airport Fantasies, Starbucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 20:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16667740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raconteur86/pseuds/Raconteur86
Summary: Tom Hiddleston meets a spunky woman in the airport on a layover.





	PDX

**Author's Note:**

> Just having a bit of fun waiting in the real airport myself today and thought to write a quick, fluffy one-shot. Shameless self insert.

“You fly business class on Southwest often Mr. H?”

He looked up to identify the speaker of the voice addressing him to find a small woman had plunked herself down in the row of seats directly in across from him and he stuttered for a moment, as he had not quite prepared himself for any sort of fan interaction at this hour of the morning. She laughed at him, pulling out her phone and for what he assumed would be a request for a photo-op that he was normally happy to oblige, but at nearly four in the morning, all he could manage was a weak smile and a, “No, not often.”

She snickered at him once more, and surprisingly just kept tapping buttons, leaving him to his peace.

As the haze of his sleep deprived mind began to clear, he took notice of her, sprawled out comfortably in her seat, round tortoiseshell glasses and matte, dark lips somehow making her eyes look even bigger and rounder than they really were. As petite as she was, he could tell that she was no child and yet she somehow struck him as rather intimidating. She must have noticed him gawking like a buffoon, because she looked up at him then, catching his eyes and grinning as she smacked her gum.

He smiled back, relaxing a bit, glad that at least his seat partner seemed to respect his privacy, even if she was somewhat distracting. He settled into his chair, pulling out his Kindle and flipping the screen on, content to actually be able to read something other than a script for once as it seemed there was never a real break in his schedule for it at the moment. Especially not after the hell of his past week, re-filming the same six scenes over and over again just because the director seemed to be working them according to whatever whims he was overcome with in the current moment.

He sighed. It was over, and he could breathe now. And read. Which was what he was trying to do when he was interrupted with a rather exaggerated throat-clearing from the woman. His eyes drifted up to her. She was still doing god knew what on her phone, but he could make out a faint trace of a smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

“Don’t look now, but I think your cover’s just been blown.” She never looked up, but nodded to his right, indicating a group of young girls who had seemingly apparated out of nowhere. They must have been flying home from some sort of dance competition, as they bopped around the nearly empty airport lobby  in their coordinating gray and pink t-shirts, giggling and shooting looks his way.

Subconsciously he must have slid down in his seat, because the woman before him laughed, still not laying her eyes upon him.

“C’mon, they’re cute. I actually envy all that energy.”

“Agreed. About the energy anyway.”

She looked up finally, considering him. “Don’t you have a hat or something?’

He shook his head no. Of course he hadn’t thought to bring a disguise to such a dreadfully early boarding time, and he really hated the fact that he usually always had to do so. Which was why he had revolted against it today. She rolled her eyes and started rummaging around in her backpack, pulling out a burnt orange ball cap with what looked like a growling monkey embroidered above the bill.

“Here.” She tossed it to him, and it landed solidly in his lap. “Not really your color, but maybe it’ll make you look a little more normal.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Thanks.” He said, putting it on.

She kept staring at him, and clicked her gum again.

“Does it look that bad?” He wondered aloud, turning his face away from the group of dancing teens to face the boarding gate door.

“Kinda.” She smiled, no malice behind her words. “But it’s a good thing. You stand out too much.”

He flicked his gaze to her, unsure if he was annoyed or intrigued. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

She put her phone down, and glared at him as if he were stupid and he nearly felt that way. “Do I really need to sit here and wax poetic about how incredibly hot you are, especially for Portland standards? I would’ve thought you’d have figured that one out already.”

He gulped, and nearly blushed, which made him furious with himself, and so he didn’t respond.

“Sorry, that was rude of me.”

He glanced her direction again, and she was staring at him with those enormous eyes once more, her face marginally full of regret, and the rest of it clouded over with a mischief that made him want to wake up and play.

He laughed and shook it off. At least she was authentic and if he were honest, it was a quality he rarely came across in women these days.

“It’s alright. I suppose loafers and button downs don’t exactly fit the culture.”

She sat up, putting her things away and moved to stand.  “C’mon, I think Starbucks is open. Let’s go get a coffee. It’s on me.”

His eyes widened, and he found himself also rising and grabbing his carry on, shocked into compliance by the small force of reckoning next to him.

“I’m Natalie Chase by the way. But you can call me Nat.”

She paused and held out her hand, capturing his in a firm shake.

“A pleasure.” He replied. “And for the record, you can just call me Tom. Mr. H. sounds like one of my old primary teachers.”

A look he couldn’t identify passed over her features, but she nodded with a grin, and they moved once more with her in the lead. She steered him toward a rather quiet looking Starbucks, and he was glad to see that this one had tables lining the inside, much like a regular store instead of a kiosk.

“What’ll you have, Tom? Although if I’m honest, you strike me as a ‘Pike Place Black’ sort of a guy.”

He crossed his arms, amused. His chivalrous bearing was currently berating him for so blatantly allowing a woman he had just met to pay for his coffee, but then again, he had quite the feeling that this was an argument he would never win with her.

“Actually, I’ll have one of those salted caramel lattes, Vente sized...and a chocolate muffin.” He added for good measure.

She brightened at that. “Wow, I wouldn’t have taken you for such a cheeky sweet eater. But I guess you never know with the quiet ones.”

His laugh rang out, rich and baritone, and he could swear he saw her swallow hard, her confident stance faltering for just a brief moment before she turned to the barista to deliver their order.

Interesting.

“Wanna go grab that table while I wait for our drinks?” She indicated to a private corner area, for which he was silently grateful, and he nodded, seating himself with his back to the door.

It didn’t take long for her to return with their two cups and his treat, as well as one of her own. She shrugged off her jacket reveal what looked to be a kid’s tshirt with the words “I heart Portland” emblazoned on them. He found himself desperately wanting to tell her how much he thought that it suited her.

“I’m not usually this quiet, you know.” He found himself saying as she sat, pulling a ridiculously large cheese danish out of its wrapper.

“Funny. I’m not usually this talkative.” She laughed. He doubted it.

“But it is an ungodly hour after all.”

“Indeed.” He replied, tucking into his muffin.

“So, you here for work?” She gestured to him with her coffee, sitting back comfortably in her chair.

He nodded, pleased at how at ease she was around him. It was rare that he could just sit and chat with a stranger anymore without them acting like really he was some sort of Norse god, and as much as he loved his work, he’d never get used to those particular dehumanizing aspects of it.

“Yeah, just finished up a couple of reshoots on a film I’ve been working on. I’m usually not alone when I work,  but it was more of a last minute thing that we needed to clear up.”

He looked at her, suddenly feeling uneasy at the fact that she probably knew more about him than he’d care to think about, while the only information he seemed to entertain about her was a name and an obvious love of pastries.

“Do you live here? In Portland? What do you do?” He fumbled out. Too many questions all at once.

She took a sip of her coffee. “Yup. I own a little dance studio in the downtown Northwest District.  I decided to close up all next week in light of Thanksgiving and take a little solo trip down to L.A. for a change.”

He lit up at that. “So you’re a dancer?”

“Ha. You put it so eloquently. I’m not a ballerina or anything. We mostly do aerobics classes for adults- hip hop, jazz, some latin, that kind of thing. What about you, do you dance, Tom?” She grinned at him as if she already knew, but he pretended as if she didn’t.

“Yeah, I love to. Although if I’m honest, I’m not very good, but it’s all in good fun.”

She shot him an incredulous look. “Something tells me that that’s not at all true, but alright.”

He snickered. “I’m serious. I have one set of moves that I recycle over and over again and pray that no one notices.”

She laughed, setting her coffee aside, and  downing the last of her food. “Well, I always tell my students that as long as you’re having a great time, and you’re still smiling, skill level doesn’t apply.”

“Ha. Agreed. So Los Angeles for a whole week, then? By yourself? Mind if I ask what you’ve got planned?”

She put a short black nail to her bottom lip, and he ashamedly found himself licking his own.

“To be honest? I’ll probably go to Disney for a day, but I want to explore a few museums, go put my hands in the prints down at Graumann’s, eat large quantities of Mexican food. Just go be as shameful of a tourist as I possibly can.”

“Sounds like fun,” he admitted, truly meaning it.

“You staying in L.A. for a bit, or is it just a layover for you?” Her pretty little hand slid across the table as she leaned forward, and he found himself wanting to do nothing more than take it.

“Just a layover on the way back home.”

She looked a little disappointed at that, but brightened up quickly as if accepting it. “I’m sure it’s nice for you to get home. I know I hate sleeping in hotel beds.”

“It’s been a while.” He agreed, suddenly cursing himself for not having a reason to spend a few nights in California. After all, he would be home for a few months this time.

A little beep resounded from her Apple Watch, breaking the bubble of their solitude, and bringing him crashing back to reality.

“Looks like we’re boarding now.” She said, glancing at it.

She made to get up, but he stopped her, giving into the desire to touch her hand for a moment. He needed to say something even if he didn’t know what.

“Hey, thanks for the coffee, and for just treating me like a normal human being.” He looked down and reddened, wondering if he was being just a tad presumptuous.

She grinned and threw their things away. “No problem. Thanks for keeping me company. Plus I had to rescue you from the Step Up Squad. I’m not that cruel.”

He giggled in that way that he did, the one that had contributed to his fame, and they left the restaurant, leisurely making their way back to the gate.

He noticed for the first time that she had grown silent, and she stopped as if weighing something out in her mind, looking surreptitiously to her right.

“What’s the-“

She grabbed his hand quite suddenly.

“Quick, in here.”

He found himself following as she pulled him into a little darkened room housing a few wheelchairs and luggage push carts.

She dropped her bag and faced him, standing up on her tiptoes and leaned up to whisper in his ear, her fingertips grazing his biceps.

“I know we just met, and I usually don’t do things like this, I promise, but, I’d really like to kiss you now, if that’s ok.”

He found himself dumbstruck as he stared down at her, unable to feel anything but her hands on him and rendered uncharacteristically incapable of formulating any coherent words. She looked around nervously, biting her lip, and for the second time that morning, he saw her confidence falter, ripping him out of his shocked state before he stupidly ruined the whole thing.

“Oh god. Yes please.” He whispered, and her smile returned.

As with everything that had transpired between them that morning, she led the way, gently pulling his face down to hers and making him forget every single detail about the major inconvenience that had been his week. He did remember himself however, for a brief moment- long enough to at least drop his bag and pull her into him, threading his long fingers through her tousled hair. She smiled against his mouth and continued to love him with sweet coffee flavored kisses and caresses to his cheek.

They pulled away, regrettably, as the gate attendants just outside announced final call for boarding.

She smiled up at him and picked up her bag. “Guess we gotta go.”

“Yeah.” He breathed, feeling truly well and snogged for the first time in a long while.

Before he could say anything else, she was rummaging around in her bag and pulling out a small card that she tucked into his hand.

“If you’re ever in Portland again, or if you decide for some strange reason to hang out in L.A. for a bit this week,” she reached up and situated her hat to cover his eyes, “I had better get my hat back.”

She patted him on the shoulder, stealing one last glance before she left him there, her number in his hand and his bag on the ground.

He finally gathered himself and picked up his things, running out to the gateway door with his ticket in hand.

They filed him onto the gangway where he became just another face in the long queue of holiday travelers. He looked up, searching and finally saw the back of her head bobbing about six people in front of him. As if she could feel the weight of his stare she turned and spotted him, casting him a sly smile and a wink.

He grinned, inspecting the business card in his hand.

 

Maybe home could wait.

 

Just for another week.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you'd like me to continue this and see Nat take him to Disneyland.


End file.
